


Giggly Kiss

by ladyofthursday



Series: Kiss Prompts [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Kisses, M/M, Mild Language, Snowball Fight, Vaguely in canon, giggly kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 16:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13298553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofthursday/pseuds/ladyofthursday
Summary: When Cas declares he's never had a snowball fight, Dean sets out to correct that immediately. Unfortunately, Dean did not expect to wind up playing capture the flag; especially not with a brother who takes cheap shots and a very sneaky angel!





	Giggly Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a 'Kiss Prompt' series that I'm doing on Tumblr. I've written a few already but there are still plenty available - you'll find the list [here](https://ladyofthursday.tumblr.com/post/168856025692/kiss-prompts/). There are a couple not crossed off (3 and 14) but otherwise send me an ask and I'll write one. I'll then add them on here when I get a chance. 
> 
> This one was for 60r3d0m.

The snowball explodes on the bad of Dean’s head with a surprisingly loud thump.

“That’s it, you’re dead bitch!” Dean yells, rounding on his brother as snow begins to drip down the back of his neck. Trust Sam to take cheap pot-shots at him. Another snowball hits his chest, a third misses his crotch by inches and he can hear Cas’s deep laugh from somewhere off to his left, as another sails past his ear.

Fuck this shit, he needs to regroup.

Curse Sam for suggesting this ridiculous snowball fight, Dean grumbles to himself as he hot foots it behind his makeshift fort. He could be snugly inside the kitchen right now, finishing off the lasagne and dreaming of garlic bread. Instead he’s outside, in the cold, playing capture the flag in the snow.

Stupid Kansas getting three feet of snow in two days. Stupid Sam, refusing the help clear the road outside the bunker meaning they were stuck here. Stupid snow for being cold and wet and annoying. And Cas, with his ridiculous statement that he’d never had a snowball fight.

Well that had needed remedying as soon as fucking possible.

Dean peers over the top of his fort, which is really just a small wall of snow that he’s now crouched behind. He can’t see either of the others, which mean’s they’re hiding as well. This had been Sam’s idea – making an actual game out of it, rather than a simple snowball fight. It was only because he was worried Cas and Dean would gang up on him. Wimp.

And then Cas had to go and make it interesting when Dean had wavered on the idea. Whispering all sorts of stupid delicious suggestions in his ear, about a prize for whoever won, while Sam had disappeared to try and find Cas a pair of gloves and a scarf. Angel or not, they didn’t want him getting frostbite.

Dean’s never backed down from a challenge. Never. 

He glances over the wall again. The flag is still there, tied to a shovel in the middle of the battlefield (which is really just the open space in front of the bunker). There’s nobody around…

But then, he spots Sam trying to make a break for it. His ridiculously tall frame and red hat making him the perfect target. Dean quickly scoops up a handful of snowballs, takes aim and fires.

Sam makes a high-pitched spluttering sound as one smacks him straight in the face.

“That’ll teach you,” Dean yells, trying very hard not to laugh as he pelts his little brother with as much snow as possible. He’s so distracted that it takes him a moment to realise that Cas is now trying to sneak out and win.

Nope. No way is that happening.

Dean looks down. He’s out of ammunition and there’s no time to make more.

Time to die a hero. So to speak.

He launches himself out from behind his fortress, trying not to laugh at the shocked look of Cas’s face as he barrels towards him. The angel laughs and tries to skip away but Dean catches him around the waist, pulling him close as they slide on the snow and crash down in an undignified, giggling heap.

Dean finds himself on top of Cas, peering down at his rosy cheeks and snow-covered lashes, a wide smile spreading across his lips.

“Gotcha,” says Dean, pinning Cas to the floor when he attempts to wriggle free. “Ah ah ah, you’re my prisoner now,” he chuckles. “I win.”

“Oh no, I’m helpless,” mutters Cas, voice loaded with sarcasm as he tries not to laugh.

“You know you could sound more sincere,” Dean adds, grinning.

“True, but where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re a little shit sometimes!” Dean laughs, trying to keep Cas still and failing. “Stop wiggling.”

“Dean, the snow is seeping into my clothes. My ass is wet.”

“Fine, fine,” Dean says, “payment is one kiss.” He leans down, gently pressing his lips to Castiel’s. They’re cold and chapped, but still soft and sweet. Cas giggles as Dean begins to pepper his face with little kisses, pinning his boyfriend in place as vengeance for the earlier deluge of snowballs that he’d dodged.

“Stop it Dean, the snow’s getting under my shirt.”

“Should have thought of that before you aimed snowballs at my dick!”

Dean’s still savouring his prize, and gently tormenting Cas, when a cascade of snow is poured over his head, forcing a noise out of him that he will never, ever admit to making.

“Dammit Sam!”

It takes him fifteen minutes to catch the moose. It takes another thirty for Cas to stop laughing at them.


End file.
